


Not This Time

by Writingwife83



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drama, F/M, First Kiss, Romance, Sherlolly Appreciation Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:19:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3486275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingwife83/pseuds/Writingwife83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My submission for Sherlolly Appreciation Week '15 on Tumblr. This is for Day 3's theme, First Kiss. Enjoy! ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not This Time

Molly pulled the orange blanket tighter around her shoulders. She squinted up into the gloomy clouds above Bart's hospital and noticed some scattered drops of rain falling. What a night, and how fitting to add some chilling rain to punctuate the gloom.

Of course it had turned out this way. It wasn't exactly surprising.

Of course Moriarty had come back with a vengeance, and of course there had been a final dramatic show down...a final fight. Molly hadn't exactly assumed it would end up taking place at her job, but in hindsight it did make sense.

He was insane and had always been insane. But it seemed he had gotten worse; more desperate. The fact that he had put explosives on himself this time...it wasn't what any of them had thought would happen. It was a risk, and obviously he was willing to play against the odds. Maybe he didn't care anymore. Maybe the months of he and Sherlock dancing around each other and chasing had worn him down. Perhaps the consulting criminal felt he had no more cards to play.

And then he'd demanded Sherlock leave with him, no questions asked, leaving his mobile behind.

Molly was surprised at herself. She was surprised that she didn't give it a second thought when John looked at her and gestured covertly to the gun he had on him. She immediately gave him the faintest of nods.

If she had to die that day, so be it. Better to take that chance than for Sherlock to walk away with that mad man. And it wasn't just that she didn't trust Moriarty, it was also because she didn't trust Sherlock. She didn't trust him to protect himself. She knew better than anyone how far he would go...if he thought it would save his friends.

Of course Sherlock figured out what John was going to do the moment before he did it. And to Molly's surprise, as John took aim and fired she felt Sherlock's body crash into hers and send them both flying to the ground behind the nearest table.

She felt things hit them, though she had no idea what they were, and the painful noise in her ears eventually turned to a long high ringing. She thought her head had blown wide open at first, only because she'd never experienced an explosion at such close proximity. But when Molly realized she could feel Sherlock's heavy breaths on her neck, she figured she was still in the land of the living.

Everything was a blur after that. She barely registered Sherlock grabbing her face and looking down at her, saying something she couldn't hear. He pulled her up and practically carried her out past the growing fire. All three of them got out.

The damage to the hospital was significant, but it could have been much worse. For whatever reason, Moriarty hadn't loaded himself with enough explosives to take out an entire building. John and Sherlock had known that when they first glanced at what he had on him. It still could have killed the three of them at that distance, but there was a chance of survival. It was worth the risk, to be done with Moriarty.

And it was done...he was finally gone.

So there sat Molly, in the back of an ambulance, contemplating the events of the past hour. It seemed more like a week had passed. She hadn't seen Sherlock since the three of them had gotten out of the building. He had shoved her off into the hands of waiting paramedics, and immediately disappeared. She assumed he had to get checked out as well, and probably wanted to speak to Greg...but she still wished she could see him. She just wanted to see him.

Molly rubbed her fingers lightly over the bandage on her hand which bore a large cut, and she felt the side of her head which was pretty sore. Clearly something had hit there, but she still didn't know what. It could even have been from when Sherlock pushed her to the ground. She was lost in thought, examining her relatively minor injuries, when the man himself came out of the crowds of people and stepped over to where she was sitting.

For a moment, he just stared down at her. He seemed to scan her and take note of what physical damage she'd sustained.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

Molly nodded. She noted that his dress shirt was damaged, one sleeve rolled up and the other ripped completely from the elbow. He had a substantial bandage on his right arm, the one that would have been closest to the blast. There was a cut along the side of his face too, and it was a knee jerk reaction when she reached up and gently touched the skin for a moment.

"What about you?" she whispered.

Sherlock pursed his lips. "I seem to be standing."

He looked at the ground for a moment and spoke again. "You could have died."

"So could you," she countered. "I knew what John was feeling. We couldn't let you leave with him. That's a risk that we...that I...wasn't willing to take. If I was the one with the gun, I would have done the same."

Sherlock met her eyes again, locking blue with brown. "I would have left with him."

"I know...and that might have killed me too." She spoke the words so softly, and she wondered if he even heard her. Perhaps his hearing wasn't quite right yet either.

He hesitated, but stepped forward and reached behind her to pick up the blanket and replace it on her shoulders again. She'd let it fall when she reached up to touch his face. She saw him swallow hard as he did this, and press his lips together. When the blanket was once again snugly around her shoulders, he stayed where he was and his fingers continued to grip the fabric firmly.

Molly felt some tears spring to her eyes when she saw how he was looking at her. That wasn't just gratitude. She felt it pierce deep, and she didn't try to hide the feelings that reflected back at him though her own eyes.

Sherlock leaned down very slowly, reminding her of times in the past, and tilted his head till his lips were almost touching her cheek. She felt his warm breath against her skin and shut her eyes, anticipating what she knew was coming. But then she realized he had frozen there, cheek to cheek with her. His next words came as a surprise.

"No...Not this time."

His hands came up from where they gripped the blanket and instead cradled her face, gently turning it just enough...just enough so that his kiss could land, not on her cheek, but on her lips.

Sherlock hissed in a sharp breath through his nose at the first contact of their mouths, and suddenly it was like they were back at the scene of an explosion. Molly took about two seconds to register the reality of what had just happened, and that was all the time she needed.

She immediately stood to wrap her arms tightly around his neck, parted her lips, and deepened the kiss...all of which Sherlock responded to as eagerly as she hoped he would. His arms left her face and locked deliciously around her back.

If you'd have asked her, Molly wouldn't have had any clue how long they stayed like that, passionately kissing in the very light rain. But at some point, one of them pulled away just enough to separate their swollen lips. Their bodies stayed locked together and they managed to share the same bit of air as they gasped for breath.

Molly let out a shaky laugh. "Thank God," she murmured.

"What?" Sherlock managed to breathe out.

"If you had kissed me on the cheek again, I swear..." she said in a low warning tone, but the humor could be seen sparkling in her eyes.

Sherlock smirked playfully at her. "Don't threaten me, Dr. Hooper. I've had enough of that for one day. And besides, I thought you liked it when I kissed on the cheek!"

"I did," she said, touching her nose to his for a moment as she bit her lip. "I just hope from now on...that's not all you'll do."

He looked down at her, eyes focusing on her lips again. "At this rate, Molly..." His voice rumbled low. "You're going to start to miss getting kissed on the cheek."

Molly's pulse began to race again. "Good," she said, just before Sherlock dove in to reconnect their lips.

* * *

"Right, John, I think we're all set. That'll be fine," Greg said as he closed his little notepad. "Now I just need to get a statement from Sherlock and Molly."

John and Greg both started looking around; scanning the sea of people outside Bart's, and suddenly John's eyes went wide.

"I...don't think you'll be able to get much from either of them right now." John looked at Greg and wagged his head in the direction of the two people who were very much unaware of the fact that anyone was around them.

Greg followed his line of vision and his jaw dropped. "Wow. Um...I don't know, I'd say they're making quite a statement right now." He cleared his throat.

John chuckled. "Mm, that's true. In fact..." He smiled across the crowd at the adorable, albeit surprising, scene.

"It's probably the best statement they've ever made."


End file.
